He presses the keys into my hand and I jingle them, trying to find my way back to my playful mood. But there’s still a soft tingling in my neck, even after I’ve started the car.
***
“Hello, welcome to– Nicko?”
We’re greeted by the attendant who stands behind the counter. He’s a bit on the short and lean side, practically drowning in a large green sweater, and a vest identifying him as an employee of the shelter. His hair is more dishwater blond compared to Nate’s, but it fits the gloomy surroundings of the shelter. Unbothered by the charmless concrete walls that not even posters of adoptable dogs, cats, and other animals can beautify, the blond beams brightly at my roommate before we’re even halfway through the door.
For a second Nate looks like he’s going to turn around and bolt, but then my best friend just rolls his eyes. “I’mNate.”
“Oh, sorry, it’s just that I–”
“You live with my brother, I know.”
I usually don’t know Nate to be this short with someone, but clearly that’s less important than this new information I’ve been unexpectedly given.
“Wow, and you haven’t strangled him yet?” I scoff, unable to imagine how it must feel to be around the sour-faced version of Nate nearly 24/7.
“Nicko’s my best friend.” The blond behind the counter frowns up at me and I wave him off, presenting my ID and the papers I’ve printed out.
“Good for him. We’re here to walk some dogs. We signed up online.”
“Oh! That’s great!” He lights right up again, apparently willing to make peace with his best friend’s critic for the good of the animals housed here. He nods as he checks my ID and then types something into the computer behind the desk.
“Here’s some more information, please read it carefully. I’ll see who I can leash up for you.”
The pamphlets he slides over are more of what I’ve already read online: a lot of information about adoption, which I skip. Some about how to treat a dog on a leash, which I skim.
My mothers always had dogs; I grew up around poodles and pitbulls. I know how to hold a leash.
“Okay, I have Violet and Lila ready for you!” the attendant calls out, and I throw a look over to Nate before following his voice toward the kennels.
We find him in the back, crouched over two very tiny chihuahuas.
“Come on, I know how to walk arealdog. My moms have a pitbull.” I look to Nate for backup, but my best friend is quickly turning away, on the brink of bursting into laughter.
“We always start first timers off with low-challenge dogs that we’re confident they can handle.” The short guy smiles sweetly and holds out the leash to one of the tiny creatures.
With a huff I take Lila—or maybe it’s Violet?—from him.
Big, bugging eyes stare up at me. Then the little shit gives a snarl and lunges straight for my ankle.
“What thefuck!” I curse, jumping back. Behind me Nate absolutely loses his shit, laughing loudly and without any pity for my ego.
Ass.
“Lila, no. Sit!” The growling and yapping stops and my attacker obediently sits. Lila, however, keeps staring up at me, trembling faintly with murderous desire.
“There’s a good girl,” the blond coos and gently pulls the barely-a-dog back. “Maybe you should give her to Nate, if she’s too spirited for you. And you can take Violet then. She’ll go easy on you, won’t you, cutie?”
A few minutes later, Nate has stopped laughing his ass off and we’re at the lakeside, walking along the gravel paths. Both dogs are happily trailing ahead of us, sniffing here and there, looking very content with themselves. It is kind of cute, even if I am still mildly worried about my ankles.
And about accidentally stepping on or tripping over Violet. Nonetheless, I’m glad to be doing something that’s improving the quality of life for the tiny animals. Seeing the chihuahuas sniff at the mushrooms that are almost as big as their heads makes me smile.
I catch Nate doing the same and nudge him with my shoulder.
“Dogs aren’t so bad, huh?”
He shrugs, leaning down to untangle Lila from some high grass, smiling as he rubs her tiny face. Of course, the little beast doesn’t bite him, just squeaks quietly. It’s a bit cute.
